Seven days before you went to heaven

Seven days before you went to heaven.

We went on our last walk together.

You could hardly walk anymore, so I carried you all the way.

A regular walk along the river.

I was so worried as I walked with you, who had grown weak.

You probably didn’t have much strength left to support yourself.

You’re limp in my arms, but you’re looking out so I can’t see your face.

Maybe you’re already dead… I was really worried as I walked.

And we sat in our usual spot by the river, relieved to see that you were still alive.

You kindly smiled at me… No, I don’t think so, you looked like you didn’t care about anything, fufu.

You are always warm, fluffy and smell good.

It smelled warm of the sun.

It was my favorite smell.

I can still smell you when I close my eyes.

Love is invisible.

And I can’t touch you anymore.

But you’re always by my side.

thank you.

This is a letter I wrote three years ago to my beloved family (doggy) who went to heaven first.

I found it when I was sorting out my notepad, so I’ll write it down here so I don’t forget it.

I changed your name a little and gave it to my chocobo.

I’m with you forever.

You are my precious treasure.

Please wait for me in heaven.